Kidnapped
by Sky Kurosaki
Summary: They weren't meant to be. And still aren't. But for one night they happen anyway.
1. Chapter 1

Hmm, new story.

Pairing: Scott Summers (Cyclops) and Raven Darkholme (Mystique)

The pairing is odd I get it, but I am a diehard fan of Scott Summers and was inspired to write this after seeing their chemistry in 'Ultimacy' by _seriousish_ and 'What They Deserve' by _Katta._ Just 'cause I used the word **pairing** doesn't mean they are going to be romantically involved, you just have to read and see, I guess.

Disclaimer: (I still don't get it, why we have to do this?) The following characters belong to Marvels and I – a humble and sometimes complaining writer – am just satisfying my thirst to have things my way. Oh yes! I acquire no profit from writing this, hope you already know that.

This will be a three chapter story, each one focusing on a particular aspect of it and having a particular related context.

So just read, relax and review.

… …

Chapter 1: Kidnapped.

"Good afternoon passengers. This is the pre-boarding announcement for flight 89B to Anchorage, Alaska. We are now inviting those passengers with small children, and any passengers requiring special assistance, to begin boarding at this time. Please have your boarding pass and identification ready. Regular boarding will begin in approximately ten minutes time. Thank you."

The flight announcer's feminine voice droned in fake pleasantry, dripping sugary sweetness and all the associated passengers hefted their luggage, and made their way to where the airline attendant was and lined up in a queue.

Among them was one such person, uniquely identified by his distinctive and stylish red shades. The man was in a word, handsome. Standing at a height of 6'1", this was the former field leader of X-Men, a group of extraordinary powers whose main motive was peaceful coexistence between humans and Mutants. He was fair skinned and had brown hair, covered in a simple white t-shirt and faded blue jeans with red stripped sports shoes. His brown leather jacket was on his left arm, which held a single knapsack bag, and on his right were his plane ticket and driver's license for identification.

This man was Scott Summers, a.k.a. Cyclops.

Scott waited for his turn in the queue and on his arrival, handed the papers to the woman on the other side of the counter. She was a cute thing, with blonde hair in a bob cut and pretty brown eyes, and, who also seems to be taking a little longer for his checking.

"Those are quite the shades, Mr. Summers." The attendant lightly complimented, flirting with Scott, but nevertheless quickly handed the documents back to him.

Taking the papers and stuffing them in his bag, Scott replied, "Thank you." He then moved forward along with the other passengers to board the airplane through the aerobridge.

There was another woman, most likely an air hostess, standing at the door of the plane, helping the passengers by directing them towards their designated seat. Scott's was a window one. Many would think of this as a great opportunity to gaze outside. But Scott wasn't one to find joy in such mundane things.

After all most if not all his enjoyment had been sucked out of his life.

Scott placed his sole hand bag in the above compartment, after removing a new and fresh book from it, and sat down on the seat. He just stared at the book for a while, its title gleaming in the fluorescent light of the plane.

Dinner at the Homesick Restaurant

Professor had suggested it for him, saying, he would like it. Although he was not a customary of novel reading, he sometimes likes to indulge in what the world has to offer. He had nothing do for a long while, might as well give it a try.

All the while as Scott was reading the starting passage of the light novel, the passengers were filling in and were taking their respective seats. There was a commotion, a few rows in front of him regarding seating arrangements, but he ignored it and focused on his reading.

"Hey do you mind if I seat here?"

Hearing the slightly breathy and heaving voice, Scott looked up from his reading and promptly forgot how to breathe.

Standing in front of him was Jean. She was huffing and puffing, bending over and having a hand over her heart, seeming to try to catch her breath. She was wearing a green sweater that stretched on her chest and skinny jeans that fitted on her not so skinny legs.

"Jean?" Scott asked with disbelief, his heart soaring and a lump forming in his throat, seeing her alive and well.

"Who?" she asked with a questioning frown marring her perfect, angelic face, before a knowing smirk came onto her cupid bow lips, "Ahh! So you want to know my name, huh? You should have just asked; there was no need for the whole 'Do I know you?' part. You do know that it has become quite old, don't you? You should try some other pick up lines, handsome. Maybe then I would consider getting to know you better. Although I do not fancy such fast guys, I guess, I can make an exception for such a cute man." She finished with a wink and grin, before placing her burgundy purse on the overhead cabin.

No, not Jean, but somebody else, somebody who looked a lot like Jean. How was that possible? Even her voice was very similar to hers. It's like both were twins and he was just meeting her new found sister.

Scott's eyes were wide behind his shades, looking at the copy of his lover. She looked just like his Jean, and would be her carbon copy, if not for her dressing sense and her obvious talking style.

His Jean was not so flirty and opens with anybody she has just met. She was, in her own way, quite reserved and mild mannered, while this woman was anything but.

Although seeing her, even if just her carbon copy, opened old wounds and memories of his time spent with her.

"Hello? Are you there?" she questioned and clicked her fingers in front of him, waking him from his reverie – or was that brooding? "I know I am beautiful, but there is no need for you to stare. It's rude you know?" She continued, with her same breathy voice but with a tone mischief in them, like she was chiding him. As does a teacher to her student, when they are being found guilty of doing something, they should not.

Scott furrowed his brows at her behavior – no, not at all like his Jean - and stoically replied, "Sure." Ignoring all her unnecessary questions and answering for the very first one.

Saying that, he returned his attention back to his book, trying to forget about his dead love and simultaneously about her look alike.

But it seems, life was not about to let him forget, at least not for awhile, while he is in this plane.

"What I mean is. Can I sit in your seat? You see, I would really like to watch out the window and it would be really difficult for me to do that, sitting here. And then I would have to lean over you, although I don't mind doing that, but I think it would be an inconvenience for you. So...?" She trailed, awaiting his answer.

Scott frowned in resignation and stood up - ready to change his row altogether, not only his seat - but before he could do that, the Jean look alike **brushed** past him, igniting his body with her warm heat and setting his nerves afire. He involuntarily took a whiff of her scent as her waist length fiery red hair ghosted over his nose, filling his senses with the sweet tart of apples.

Her entire back grazed his front in her charge to reach the window and she sat down, instantly facing out the glass window. Scott was shocked at her audacity and invasion of his personal space and scowled at her, who missed it completely. He shook his head slightly in incredulity and called the nearby hostess, who was by now helping a new passenger with his seat belt problem.

"How may I help you sir?" Her voice gained the attention of the rude woman who seemed oddly interested in him now.

"Is there any other place where I can sit?" Scott asked with a neutral tone, his past irritation shoved at the back of his mind.

The air hostess glanced behind him at the woman, with a crinkle on her forehead, who was waving her arms with a brandishing action before settling into a cross. The unfortunate recipient of such action was clearly confused which got settled when the woman moved her head side by side, even mouthing the word, 'NO'.

The hostess then directed her attention back to Scott, who was standing there perfectly still, patiently waiting. The hostess hid a small smile behind her gloved hand as she understood his situation.

They were obviously a couple, or infatuated with each other and had a spat somehow. The woman was trying to make amend by extending the olive branch – girls are inherently smart and sensitive that way – and the man was surely resisting, courtesy of his stubborn male pride.

Trying to help the situation and reconnect the lovers she answered, "We are extremely sorry sir, but all other are full and there are none available."

The red-headed woman mouthed the word 'Thank You', and gave her a cheery smile. Scott scowled slightly and decided not to give further trouble to the hostess, "It's okay. I will manage." And sat at his - **her** \- seat, subtly ignoring her and looking at his book instead, ready to continue his novel from where he had left, before he was interrupted.

Even though his eyes were on the start of the second page, his mind was not. He couldn't really believe it. Once during his pre-teen years when he had just been enrolled in Professor's school – at that time mansion - and was traumatized from the past experiences, Jean, his Jean, who at that time was nothing but a faceless girl yet was his only friend had said something that had always given him courage and stillness at times of despair and chaos.

" **I will always be with you till the very end, I promise."**

And she had made true of that promise. She was always by his side, always a source of light in this otherwise darkened world. She was always there, the time when he first wore his ruby quartz glasses and saw what the world has to offer; she was the first person he saw. She was there to confront and comfort him after their first fight against the Sentinels, as a team. His fear of hurting others was reduced by her presence. He knew she was strong enough to stop him if needed. Years have come and gone by, all their previous friends lost to their lives and from their life, yet they prevailed supporting each other through numerous ups and downs.

She had said she would be by his side till the **end** and she kept it. She was by his side when she died on that cursed mission. There was not even a body for funeral.

It seems her promise went beyond her existence and she was now back to haunt him in the form of her replica.

He was so focused in his thoughts that he missed the attention he was getting from his co-passenger. She had turned her whole upper body and was looking - staring at him with her green sprinkled eyes. Her mouth was twisted in a grin at what she thought was avoidance from his part. Perhaps he was mortified from their earlier conversation and was now trying to ignore her?

But she wasn't the one who likes to be ignored for long.

"Come on, there is no need to feel embarrassed! It is understandable. I'm a beautiful woman and you naturally feel attracted to me," saying this she poked him in the shoulder, trying to gain his attention and his head whipped in her direction at the invasive touch.

Scott could feel a migraine starting to form in his brows and after giving her his patented blank look shifted his attention back to the novel, hoping for her to quit whatever she was trying to do.

But it seems fate was not on his side today.

Heh, when had it sided with him ever before?

The woman again poked him in the shoulder but this with a bit more force. "Hmm, do you workout? I like men who take care of their body."

Scott's lips thinned in barely compressed irritation, but he didn't acknowledge her.

She of course took this as a challenge and again tried to poke, only for his hand to shoot out and snatch hers in mid air. Scott shut the book with his right hand with a dull thump and released a barely audible sigh, before looking at her. "Stop doing that and I wasn't embarrassed. I just thought you looked like someone I knew, but after seeing your manners, I can hardly believe why I thought of you as her." Scott said and released her hand, which fell limp on her lap.

Shaking her shock at being told off, a small smirk crept on her face. "I like you. Hi, my name is Maya. And yours?" She introduced herself and offered her right hand.

Scott resisted the urge to pinch his nose from annoyance. 'Why couldn't I recognize it before? She is not Jean. Otherwise I would have felt her presence even before she stepped on the plane.'

Scott was already wary of her, not because she was a human, but because she looked like Jean. The first girl whom he had a massive crush on, the first girl to become his girlfriend and lover but above all, the first woman with whom he had imagined to live his entire life with. She was someone who he had thought would not leave him alone like his family did. But unfortunately fate had something entirely other plans for him, for it took Jean from him. He was somehow coping with her loss, but to add salt to his wounds, fate had created the clone Jean and for some reason she was sitting right next to him, being extremely chatty.

Scott decided to introduce himself and end this conversation altogether. It was becoming painful just to look at her, "Scott Summers. And I request you to do not disturb me anymore; I have to complete this book before landing." A bit of a lie didn't hurt anybody and in this case, it was quite opposite for him.

Maya frowned in confusion and hesitantly replied, "Sure."

Fortunately she stayed silent for a while and was oddly interested in Captain's flight announcement.

Scott's brow wrinkled as Maya whistled and listened as a steward went on with their regular speeches regarding safety and security. The first time passengers were giving their full attention, even few of the regular ones too. Although Scott thought they were more focused on the steward rather than what was coming from the steward.

Scott was on the fourth page, last paragraph – it was an interesting novel – when the flight took off. He closed his book without a second thought and leaned back in his seat. The cushion of his seat molding against his body and he shut his eyes. Even though his body was here, his mind was teleported to the BlackBird where he sat behind the pilot's seat, directing the jet with his anonymous co-pilot. His heart pumped blood and adrenaline rushed in his veins which in turn increased his heart rate more. He gripped the book and he imagined himself piloting the plane, making it soar in the sunny sky and letting it cut through the air. He was in his element and he never felt more comfortable before. Here there was no Jean or her clone. Only he and his Bird.

"Your glasses are cool."

His eyes opened and he was harshly brought back to reality. His small amount of reprieve broken in face of her familiar voice and in a second he was back to reading the novel. The plane was now smoothly flowing through the vast expanse of sky and from his knowledge it would take close to eight hours before he would be on Anchorage. So, it would be those torturous eight hours before he could again mourn his dead girlfriend and hopefully move on.

Maya was undeterred from his silence and again tried to start a conversation, "Can I see it?"

That got Scott's immediate attention and he reflexively leaned back from her, even though she has yet to lift her hand. Scott was rightfully wary of her. Here was a girl who was ignorant to other people's personal space and who didn't know the destruction his eyes could cause.

Scott decided he has to be strict with her. In his line of work, one can never be too cautious. And if she by her foolish playfulness decided to do anything with his glasses… well it was just a disaster waiting to be happen both economically and regarding health issues and not to mention this would only flame the hatred towards mutantkind. And that was something Scott can never let happen.

Scott's reply was cut and spoken with his firm and authoritative tone, the one he usually reserves for in the field, "No. And don't even think about it," And to emphasize his point he looked at her, straight in her green eyes, seeing his Jean yet at the same time not.

Apparently she understood it and raised her hands in mock surrender, "Okay okay. No need to sound so grumpy. If you don't want to talk, then no prob. Though I must insist on what you will be missing by not talking with me. You must be tall, dark and handsome … and brooding **and** it might get you girls back home, but it can only work on me for so long." She paused and waited for him to say something, and when it was evident that he was more interested in his new novel than her, her mouth turned into slight pout, "And it's not like I like you or something. You are just a guy who has the luck to sit by me and if you are such a narcissist,

'Cat calling kettle black?'

then talk with yourself for all I care." She finished with a big frown, her mouth twisted sourly and her upbeat, cheerful mood thoroughly ruined.

'Thank God.'

Maya made a conscious effort to look like she was unaffected by his silence and the resulting quiet made Scott relax in his chair, if only by a little. Though he couldn't ignore the moody and sullen vides he was getting from her.

It looked like something was just about to come from her mouth when a steward – the one Scott had asked previously - came and asked what they would like for their dinner.

Before Scott could order, Maya beat him to the punch, "I would like whatever there is today."

"And me also. Bring whatever there is but makes sure that the plate is filled."

"With extra spices in them." Maya whispered who was easily ignored by him.

He was not the scrawny, skinny kid from when Professor Xavier had first found him; he was now a bulky yet lithe young man, whose energy discharge made his metabolism several times faster than that of a normal human being.

Scott watched the hostess write their order before walking further down the row, asking other passengers.

There was a terse silence between them, with Scott reading his light novel and Maya listening to some pop music. There was a moment when Scott felt someone's eyes on him, particularly from his left direction, but he dutifully ignored them.

This only aggravated the redhead and she stood, instantly putting Scott at alert.

'Now what she is going to do?'

Without saying a word to him, she tried bypassing him, but obviously could not with what him sitting in the way. So she tried something else.

She placed both her hand on the front seat, bracing her and with her feet just lined with Scott's tried crawling from the cramped space in front of him. This caused her to hunch in a sitting pose without actually sitting. Her rear was in the air and her nose practically touching the leather of the front seats.

"What are you doing?" There was equal amount of confusion and irritation mixed in Scott's million worth question.

Fortunately or unfortunately, the time when Scott asked his question she was fully out from her seat and was on the way to cover Scott's. This caused quite a stimulating effect, with her looking like she was about to sit on Scott and with Scott looking like a deer caught in headlights. Few of the passengers were wide-eyed with their mouth hanging open at the two people's audacity.

"Can't you see? Or has your bloody red glasses caused you to go blind. I'm trying to go out." Maya's voice was muffled from the seats as she answered. There was a strain in her voice as she tried futilely to stay in the position that she found herself in. "Now if you will remove you leg, I will be eternally grateful, your 'Mr. Grumpy pants'. People are looking!"

Scott frowned at his new nickname, but quickly moved his leg. Not wanting to cause any more commotion and get unwanted attention more than he already has.

Not to mention the slight rise in his pants from the close view of her delectable derriere in the tight blue jeans.

Maya with her face a little red stood, stretching her abdomen and bending her back a bit, pushing her bountiful assets in the air.

"I want to go to the bathroom." There was something in her voice that he couldn't quite place, but in answer to her statement he again opened his book and started his reading.

Maya muttered something about clueless handsome men under her breath, before sashaying her way to the bathroom, with more than half the population of the plane looking her way, excluding that of one Mr. Scott Summers.

"She is so rude." Scott commented at her exit.

"She is so hot." An old man commented just to his right at the same time.

Scott turned as well as the man, both eyeing each other at their respective words.

"Come on! Man you have got to be blind not to see an eye candy like her. By the way, hi, my name is Stan Lee. You must have known me. I am quite popular with the comics I create."

"No." Stan Lee frowned at the blunt reply of the spectacled man, before disregarding him and thinking of a protagonist for his new comic series. 'Perhaps a man with laser emitting eyes? Hmm, now that I have thought about it, it's kinda cool. I have to see more into that.'

It was quite a while before Maya returned, her face was covered with a very thin sheen of make-up and there was new peach color on her pouty lips.

Not that Scott noticed.

He had just checked to see that there was no problem like the previous number of times with her. He had just stood quickly, making way for her so that she does not repeat her previous getting out method.

Scott noticed that after she had returned, her mood had drastically improved from before and she was again looking like the woman who had just entered the airplane. Cheerful, flirty and full of vigor.

Still, she did not try to strike a conversation with him and he sent a silent prayer to whoever was out there for that. Even though her personality and trait was total opposite from his Jean, it still hurt - deep within his chest – to see the face of the love of his life sitting next to him. But how was that possible for a Jean look-a-like to be present? He would have to talk with Professor to go the roots of this matter; once he landed in his birth place that is.

'You still won't break your promise even in death, huh Jean?'

Thankfully, the stewards came with their dinner before she could explode from her unnatural silence.

The meal was quite uneventful as Scott had wished. Though he had wished a lot more things to be uneventful in his journey, everything cannot go according to his plan, he mused.

It was after the meal that Scott felt that something was not right, something was out of place.

Most, if not all the passengers immediately went to their sleep. It was understandable that people usually do not have anything to do in an enclosed place, several thousand feet above the ground. But what was unusual, was their sleeping positions. Some were covered by blankets and with pillows, eyes covered by the black mask – okay that was fine – but many of them were situated in variety of, if not uncomfortable poses. Some of the children were holding tablets, PSPs, some of the corporate peoples with their laptops open and one or two with their head plastered to the keyboard. It was like they were doing something, when the energy was sucked out of them. Like the strings of puppets, cut by the puppet master.

It was unnatural.

That when Scott realized, Mutants. Whenever something out of whack happened, mutants were responsible. Be it a mutant criminal bend set on eradicating humans or a human, bend set on eradicating mutants. In both the situations there was just disaster.

Maya

Scott swiftly turned towards his co-passenger, only to find her in the similar predicament as everyone else.

He gritted his teeth as a sudden dizziness slammed into him. His vision was filled with black spots even as he tried to gain his bearings. His heart was pumping blood and a dull throb started thumping in his head. Everything around him was roaming as he tried to stand up, only to fall back into his cushioned seat.

Somebody's hands grabbed his face from both the sides. They were cool to touch, almost icy. His vision was filled with blue, red and yellow.

Nothing made sense to him anymore as whatever was in that food took hold of him completely, and in his last speck of conscious he remembered of Jean and her fiery hair, which in turn reminded him of his own crimson eyes.

I am a Mutant.

'Don't remove my glasses othe…'

… …

End of Chapter 1

So how do you like it? Review and tell me.

Don't flame me, saying they are not meant to be, how you can possibly even think of this atrocity?! and blah blah blah.

I just want your opinion and suggestions regarding the dialogues, characterization, the background, story-flow and all the technicalities. Whatever you find is wrong, comment on it. I want to improve my writing and my character-knowing (if that's a word) of Scott Summers and I can't do that if you keep your finding's to yourselves.

Writers write to express themselves but they also like it when their works are being appreciated or if they find room for improvement.

So… till next time.

\- Sky Kurosaki.


	2. Chapter 2

A new chapter, focusing on…

…Well you will read.

There is warning for this chapter but I won't give WHAT. So read on your own peril. But I strongly advise you to read it and see the dynamic between the duo.

Bit of OroroxScott nothing else, although a pretty heavy implication.

I have a draft almost ready for the above couple, though missing a few details. Don't know when I will post the first chapter. The story is crazy itself. Hehe!

Thank you for the reviews! I know that X-men comics is not much visited by readers but I still wanted to thank whoever read and reviewed - or took their time out of this busy world in paying attention to my hours of work.

Anon 87: I would like to express my gratitude to you for pointing out the faults regarding the tenses. I didn't even know about that! BUT after googling and searching I found the concept of that and am trying to fix the errors. Though I don't think it will be anytime soon.

MarvelMaster616: Jabra fan! I really like your stories, though I tend to shift towards ClarkxDiana stories more. Who wouldn't? They are just adorable! Oh yes, Ultimate Exile, that was one of my first X-men stories I ever read. I love them! And thank you for the review.

Disclaimer: (I still don't get it, why we have to do this?) The following characters belong to Marvels and I – a humble and sometimes complaining writer – am just satisfying my thirst to have things my way. Oh yes! I acquire no profit from writing this, hope you already know that.

Looks like the story will be increased by one more chapter. I don't want to make my readers feel bored and tired reading this.

So just read, relax and review.

… …

Chapter 2: Consenting

He decided he was subconscious. Often people describe an out of body experience, feeling like they are somewhere else far away from the physical world, yet connected to it through their body. The fearless leader had never encountered it before, until now. He felt he was awake, yet his senses were asleep. He was half-asleep, not removed from the clutches of slumber and fatigue.

But the amazing thing was, he couldn't remember the reason, why?

Little by little, he felt himself being returned to his physical manifestation. Felt his senses awakening, reconnecting with the world after who knows how many hours of detachment.

And then he felt it–them.

Cuffs, on his hands. Both of his hands were crossed and tied to the bedpost with what he imagined must be iron manacles, deducing from the tinkling sound as he tested them, moving his tightly restricted hands for any way of picking them. Both of his legs, too, strapped to the opposite corners… tightly. He could just slightly raise his knees, if he wanted to. But what really gave him alarm and a slight sense of fear was that, he had been in this position before.

Not recently. Nor he could remember it perfectly.

But he could still remember the bits and pieces from when he had been probed on by Mr. Sinister. Not when he was wide awake, no, but when he sleeps. He can still remember the evil, mocking laugh of him, after rousing up from the recurring nightmares.

He willed his irrational fear to subside and to focus on the current pressing matters. Anyway, the obsessed doctor would never allow his test subjects to be experimented on such soft, silky mattress.

The second thing that made him pause was that he can feel his eyes.

Naked, without their protection. Without other's protection.

This caused him to panic and instinctively squeeze them, tightly. Press them with way more force than necessary. Teeth grounding and breaths hyperventilating, he tried figuring out what the **hell** was going on. From the first day he got his visor, he had never ever thought of removing it for sleeping. Jean always complained from his behalf that they must irritate him, cause him discomfort.

Of course, they do. They are- were uncomfortable till the few weeks he got them first. But after that they became a part of him, not just for controlling his powers, but also for making him feel normal. But contradictorily they were also a constant reminder of how much **not** normal he is.

Jean!

The thought of his deceased lover brought back all the memories which were veiled till now. Airplane, Alaska, Maya, The drugged food, Hands. Red, Blue, Yellow!

He willed his heart rate to calm now, uncurled his subconsciously fisted hands and little by little the tension from his muscles lessened and relaxed. The creases on his face loosened, his eyelids releasing their pressure on his eyes.

In just few seconds flat, he was back to looking like he was asleep. And he wanted his abductors to think just that, all the while he was analyzing his situation, thinking of how he came here to be.

A hand – cold – touched his cheek and reflexively his whole body stiffened.

He never heard anybody move!

A human being has total five senses – six, if you count intuition – and of course he has too. But when a person is devoid of any one, either from birth or after that, their other senses heighten to such levels that the person does not even feels he is lacking of anything.

Similarly is the case with him. Though he is not blind, at one point in his past, he had vowed to never open his eyes, fearful of the destruction that it would cause. So in his mind – from that moment on - he became blind. Even when he gained the visor, he still trained himself to fight with his eyes closed – not to mention the other little things in life. By doing so his other senses became sharp to the point of surpassing that of a normal human. He by no means is Daredevil, whose primary mutation

So it was shock to him when another person – female, by the feel of her hand – was present by his all the time and he didn't even feel her presence. It was a testament to how much out of practice he is. Or how much stealthy this woman is. Perhaps, she is a mutant whose powers were of invisibility. No, otherwise he would have at least felt her breathing, the air shifting as she respired.

All of this was deduced by Scott in just a second from the moment the woman touched him.

She came close, her cool breath fanning his naked face before trailing to his left ear. He suppressed a shiver when her cheek grazed his and her icy breath puffed over his ear. Her hair must be long, because it almost covered the entire right side of his face.

"I know you are awake, Scott Summers. There is no need for pretense otherwise." She says. Her voice was sultry and held a tone of mischief in them. But above all it was somehow familiar to him - he must have met her before somewhere. Scott was not a person to forget the people he met in this dangerous life, and he was always able to recognize any one just by the sound of their footsteps. So it was quite unsettling when he couldn't distinguish her.

"Now now there is no need to frown and sully such a handsome face." Her lithe fingers massaged the creases on his forehead. Scott scowled.

She gave an airy giggle at the result of her action, amused.

"Who are you?" Scott asked. There was no need to ask why he was here. It was a pointless question to ask his kidnapper. He was sure the answer would be given to him afterwards. If not, he will see, but first of all he wants to know who she is. That would solve a majority of questions in his head.

Cool fingers stopped massaging his head and travelled over the apple of his cheeks before coming to rest on his jaw line. The mystery woman then caressed him lightly but couldn't ease his tightened jaw.

"You don't know me darling?! I am your lover," her voice was playful and he can **see** a teasing glint in her unknown eyes, "for tonight at least."

Scott's frown deepened in confusion at her words. What did she mean by that?

Perhaps the woman interpreted his confusion before a light laugh escaped her frigid mouth and fanned on his face, cooling his heated body slightly.

"There is no need to be so confused…

…my love. You just relax and let me do all the work." She removed her hand and he felt her face withdrew from his. Her silky tresses glided over visage slowly as if intentionally and he instinctively took a sniff of it.

His whole body tightened on the bed at the scent. He had smelt that before, but from where?

He racked his muddled brain to find out from where he had smelt it. Where?

"Scott, I am going to the bathroom."

Maya!

Before this her voice was of someone he couldn't remember, till now. She looks like Jean and her voice is that of Jean too. And Scott may forget everything, even himself, but he wouldn't-couldn't forget her.

What was she doing? And why had she kidnapped him?

Before he can utter a word, he heard footsteps stepping away from the chained bed and echoing out of the room.

No, she couldn't be her. She wasn't cold to touch, but the smell was uncannily same. Someone else is causing all this. There were two voices he heard from the moment he woke on this bed. One, that of the unknown woman and the other, that of Maya.

There can be a chance that only Maya has left the room - or whatever in which he was held - and **another** woman who he couldn't sense was standing right by him. Or both of them were the same person and somehow could alter their voice and body temperature.

That sounded more likely, because from the moment the mysterious woman touched him, he could easily sense her. From her touch, to her breathing and above all her presence.

Now that Scott has some alone time to think, he deduces the previous events and comes to a conclusion as to what the actual identity of his kidnapper is. It is entirely possible that she is a new mutant – because other than a mutant, he doesn't know who has the guts to kidnap the former field leader of X-Men – or an old mutant who he had already met. Sliding out the possibility of a new mutant, he juggles his brain for any mutant that he knew **and** met, who has the power of imitation.

Mystique

That was entirely possible.

But…

Why? Why would she go to such length to kidnap him? Imitating as the clone of his dead lover and acting throughout the journey. But who knows, perhaps she gets a perverse sense of amusement from his suffering. But if Scott think of all this from a third person's point of view, he could understand her line of subtlety. The brotherhood has always done its terrorist acts in dark, hiding from the human populaces' plain sight, to kill them. Though the end results were always far from subtle.

"Darling, you are thinking far too much." Scott tensed a little as she entered the room. He could feel her getting closer to the bed, her feet lightly padding on the floor. The sound increasing as she came nearer and nearer.

A hand rested on the center of his chest, caressing him lightly through shirt he wore.

"Why have you kidnapped me?" Scott grunted and tried to ignore the uncomfortable feeling that was emanating from her touch.

"Direct to questioning I see. You are always so stiff Scott. Didn't I told you relax, hnn?" teases Raven, "and what do you mean by kidnap? I have just brought you here to enjoy whatever that is going to happen now." The hand that was resting on his chest trailed upwards before lightly toying with the first button on his shirt.

"Do you know who I am?"

He could tell her or not. He was now sure that the woman is Mystique. He was just unable to remember her in his drug induced haze, aided by the heavy sleeping. Scott decided to take the direct approach with her. This might caught off guard and he was frankly tired of the emotional rollercoaster that is his life.

"Mystique,"

There was a breath of slight surprise above him at his declaration, though which soon turned to laugh, "I don't know why I am even surprised that you recognized me. You are, after all, the leader of X-Men."

"Was,"

"Hnn?..." she breathed in confusion and the hand that was toying with his collar shifted to his throat. She didn't try to choke the life out of him as he thought. Instead, she put her index and middle finger on his pulse.

He swallowed, "I **was** the leader of X-men. So whatever planning you have would not succeed."

"Oh, you think me bringing you here has anything to do with the X-men?" asked Raven with the same sultry tone, "Well let me tell you something my dear. That thinking is far from the reason I have you here. Chained to the bed, without your glasses, looking sweetly vulnerable and if I am honest with myself… quite ravishing." She finished with her cupping his cheek.

"What?" What is she doing with her hand?

Instead of answering his question, she started undoing his shirt's button one by one.

Scott panicked, his frown deepening, "Wh-what are you doing?! Stop it!" He tried to twist himself out of her fingers, which was hard considering the constraints restraining him in place.

With quick and agile moves, Raven removed all the buttons before throwing open his shirt with a flourish, exposing his chest for the entire world to see. But at that moment, only her.

"God! Just look at that chest!" Raven was just not saying this for effect. Although that is partly true. But, the real reason was that, she found his chest to be quite amazing. It was beautifully sculpted. Broad shoulders give way to perfect svelte pectorals, covered with a little dust of hair, made it look all the more sexy. They were not made for power, although that was still there. But they were mainly made for speed, lithe and slender.

And those abs! Sweet Jesus, she couldn't wait to rub her knuckles on those bad boys. Not an ounce of fat was present on his washboard abs. A trail of hair started at the base of his navel before disappearing in his jean pants.

Granted, she had seen a lot of the chests and abdominals, both of men and women alike over her century old life, but there was just about this one that made her blood pump with excitement and her panties to get a little sticky, already. Perhaps it's because this one is her first attempt to do something so daring with the leader of X-men, **or** it could be because something really worthwhile and precious will come out of this.

Who knows? Although she was inclined to believe it is because of the second one. With a trickle drop of the first.

"You know I like men who take of themselves. And of course you count as one of them," said Raven lightly as she trailed her hands up and down his front, occasionally scratching him with her nails.

The selection of words disturbingly reminded Scott of Maya, who, now when he thought about have said the same thing in the plane. And didn't her name too mean illusion, just like her aliases? He must have been feeling pretty down, when he didn't pick out so many signs of something being amiss. Jean's look alike being in the same plane as him and more over sitting next to him, him not finding any other seat and her overly friendly attitude towards him.

When he didn't reply to her compliment Raven continued, hugging him, her smooth curves pressing against his hard panels of flesh and brought her cold lips near his ear and whispered, "You know I actually somehow knew, you would not fall **that** easily for my acting. I guess I should have known you would only fall for the sweet, sexy and…

…silent type my love."

"Don't call me that!" Scott growled, twisting his head away from the chill breathing lips.

He dutifully ignored the cool, supple expanse of bare flesh pressed tightly to him. She was naked that much he can gather and her nipples were uncomfortably rubbing against him. Raven moaned deep within her throat and the sound reverberated all over him. He can feel his heartbeat race and was sure that she can feel it too.

Scott tried calming down but was finding it hard to concentrate when Raven was rubbing all over him in such a lewd manner. She was practically sleeping atop him and… **was she purring?!**

"You know Scott Summers; it's been quite a long time that I have shared my bed with a male. I have nearly forgotten the feel of it. The euphoria I get when a man's cock slips inside me **oh so** slowly, claiming a place within my body that will always be void. Filling out the emptiness that I always feel when nobody is down there. The feel of the rough, calloused fingers marking my body, touching it…

But you know something Scott Summers. Nobody can mark me as their own. Nobody is worthy enough. And do you know why?"

"'Cause I am a mutant. Humans dread me and most people are put off by my skin color, but when you dangle a chance of a free booty they look like drooling dogs ready to get a bite of the freshest meat. And mutants… though many accept for what I am, there are whole bunches out there who fear me. And you Scott Summers, what you feel? Do you dread me or do you fear me?"

Scott voice was firm as he answered, "I feel nothing." And that was true. He didn't know Mystique enough to make an opinion of her, apart from the usual friend of Magneto and Professor X. But aside from those two whose intentions and goals are clear as day and night, hers were always shrouded in mystery and those crystal yellow eyes.

What secrets she holds under that blue skin of hers will only be that. Secrets.

"Good then it will be over before we know it and then we can pretend that we never met," Mystique said in consoling manner though which soon turned into teasing, "…Although I do feel something promising rising down below. Are you still sure, you don't feel anything?" there was mocking in her voice even as she placed a hand on the button of Scott's jean pants.

Although Scott had never had a decent conversation with her, he was sure she was one of the few people that don't judge the path they took; only that it satisfies their ends.

"One question"

"Anything,"

"Are you going to rape me?" Scott's question was met with silence.

"No, rape is over-exaggerated."

"We are going to create something beautiful."

Apparently that answer was supposed to be enough for the question asked, according to Mystique though not by Scott's standards.

Scott was ready to say something when Raven took the chance and plunged her tongue inside his mouth, completely taking him by surprise and tasting the essence that made Scott Summers unique. Scott groaned in her mouth. Her tongue traced the roof of his mouth, even as their lips smashed together creating hot friction that filled Scott's head with nothing. Their hot breaths intermingled and Scott felt Raven shifting over him until she was comfortably sitting on his abs, grinding her lower lips on the ridges. Their lips parted, saliva flicking Raven licked her lips memorizing the feel and taste of Scott Summers' orifice.

Both were breathing quite heavily through their mouth, exhaling gusts of winds.

"Does it feel good Scott? It must have been long for you too if I am not mistaken, huh? ..." Raven was really getting into this. It had been a really long time that she has really fucked someone and she was more than ready to get her parts oiled. And who better other than the fearless leader of the X-men. Raven was now full on grinding her mound on his abs, riding with slow précised movements, her womanly juices slowly wetting his body. Her body was cold but it was making his hot.

Scott didn't reply and didn't have to. Both knew what was that he was feeling. He loved Jean and was feeling immensely guilty for betraying her even if she was dead. Never mind the face that it was happening without his consent. But one thing he cannot deny. He liked the things that she was doing. He liked being kissed by this creature of lies and many faces. He liked being touch by those cool, unfamiliar hands.

The truth of the matter was that after the death of Jean Grey, he had fallen into depression. He never went out of their room, always staying in and not even the prospect of eat or sleep could dissuade him from the path of self-destruction. His friends, his students and Professor could do nothing but watch as he wept silently in their room without a tear sliding from his eyes. The major thing that made him act crazy was the lack of **her**. There is this void in his head that will be never complete again. Her soothing voice, her constant presence comforting him at all times. That was thing that haunted him the most. And still does.

It was only after Ororo Munroe, his best friend, came in the room that he lifted his head from Jean's photograph and resignedly faced the world that felt so much hollow now.

He still feels ashamed of himself whenever he thinks of those days when he didn't care for anybody, not even his best friend. But the most amazing thing was she never escaped from him, instead welcomed it with open, caring arms.

Scott was jerked out of the melancholy thoughts with a soft pair of lips. But this time he just wasn't a recipient of the kiss, no, this time he responded with everything he has.

Raven moaned in surprise delight as his tongue fought against hers, pushing and pulling, before forcing it into her icy cavern. Their saliva was exchanged as the kiss became more heated as the time increased. Fire was created as both of their hungry lips rubbed, increasing the delicious friction between them. They breathed through their nose, inhaling each other's arousal.

Raven's hand which were idle till now were massaging his pectorals with her cool fingers while at the same time her naked groin rubbed over his clothed one, wetting them with her flowing juices. Scott groaned in pleasure as his cock became harder and started to ache with the need to be free. He started feeling a little dizzy as the blood rushed to his cock, making him light-headed and his dick firm.

Both their lungs started to protest with the lack of oxygen, but neither stopped; only increasing the intensity of their union. She bit his upper lip before massaging with hers then releasing it with a wet pop. That was the only time their lips parted and took the greedy air in, before again wrestling with each other, fighting to dominate the kiss and in turn dominate other.

She was so cold which soon turned to scorching hot. She had just changed herself into someone else.

Scott violently wrenched his mouth from hers and gasped, "Who are you?"

It took a moment before she replied, her voice different, "Does it matter?" Raven was feeling quite breathless after the kiss.

"Give my glasses." Scott demanded with a frown on his face, looking every bit the leader that he was, but the image was ruined with his flustered cheeks and red, bruised lips.

"Oh darling! But you look so handsome without them." Raven whined in amusement, "And why do you even need them? It's not like what we will be doing would need for you to see me. Besides I like this unobstructed face of you more. Who knows I might even keep you?" Her index finger trailed over his face slowly to emphasize her point.

"No I need it. If we are going to do it, then I want it." Scott said.

There was a moment of pause before something slowly was placed on his closed eyes. His glasses.

Where had she kept them?

Her voice was different this time, familiar, "Now you can open your eyes and look at the sex goddess, ready to be defiled." Scott scowled at her choice of words but did just that.

And he wished he didn't.

"Ororo," Why did she have to turn into her?

"Yes, isn't it amazing? You had just kissed a virtual goddess of winds and lightning. And now she is ready to do anything at your beck and call, you just have to say." Mystique in Ororo's visage stated, looking the every bit graceful woman that the original is.

Scott couldn't believe it. If he didn't know that there was Mystique straddling him, he would have thought of her as Ororo. The similarity was uncanny. The same mocha colored skinned, the same silver-white hair floating over her back reaching her waist, the same dark lips fitting in a lusty grin and those same smoky black eyes hiding the silver of tease that he could hardly see. The finger that was on his face shifted to her stomach, lightly ghosting over her abs before touching those huge melons gripping both of them, kneading them, twisting those dark nipple mercilessly. Whether to fool him or not, he didn't knew, but an impossibly sexy groan escaped Ororo's lips, instantly hardening his cock and making his hands itch just to touch them.

Seeing – and feeling – his reaction at witnessing his best friend touching herself, Raven cupped both of Scott's cheeks, causing her body to lean forward. Her breasts squeezed over his chest, her nipples hard like stone poking him, resulting in him stifling a groan. She grinned in mocking and her eyes finding the hunger in his, made her to touch her wet warm lips to his. This caused Scott to reply to the kiss with equal, if not more passion than before. This time there was no tongue involved. This time Scott took the lead of the kiss, making Raven subversive for now.

He angled his head to the right forcing her to coo her head to the opposite direction. He captured her bottom plump lip with his teeth biting it before sucking it to massage the bruise away. Raven/Ororo gasped at the feeling, a coil of heat gathered deep inside her belly which only intensified when he shifted his hips in such a way, that his bulging cock dragged over her hot mound from the down. Raven too started grinding her hips with his, adjusting her timing such that they looked like they were virtually fucking.

Their lips parted but not their body. There was no space left between their rubbing chests and shifting hips.

"Change,"

"Huh?" It took a moment for Raven to comprehend what the man below her was saying, "What did you said Scottie?"

"I said change, Mystique," panted Scott, trying to focus in the wake of the sex hunger creature that was slithering over him.

"You can call me Raven now, my fearless leader. After all I think that we're intimate enough to not call each other with the boring nicknames, huh." Raven stated without pausing in her ministrations.

"…Raven, happy? – "Yes, very." – Now change back to your original form. I don't want to have sex with you while you are in my comrade's skin."

"Aww, pooh! And here I thought we could have some nice foreplay. You are no fun!" Raven stopped marking his neck and looked up, simultaneously stopping trying her torso to fuse with his. Her whole focus now on the conversation that had put a roadblock in their hot fucking, "Don't you have a dream where you fuck each and every hot woman you have met in your life? Where you have a harem of exotic and sexy women just to satisfy your carnal desires and those hidden fantasies? And I bet that Ororo Munroe a.k.a. Storm is one of them."

"It is only a dream if it didn't happen already."

Raven/Ororo gasped in mild surprise before giving a slight peck on his chapped lips, "You devil you. I never pegged you for the affair type, you sly dog. I am so disappointed in you. What would Charles said if he found out about your shameless philandering." She shook her head in mock disappointment.

It was a little disconcerting to see the ever graceful Storm act like this, so different from the one he knew and if he was honest, it was also quite distracting seeing those breasts jiggle in response to her headshake. Even if there was a moment of lull in their screwing and his cock was semi-limped, it was ready to be hard again.

The reason for him to state such a request was because he was already feeling guilty over agreeing to have sex with her – even though he didn't know the reason why – but moreover he will feel even more shamed if he fucked Raven while she was in Ororo's skin. It's not like he was embarrassed of having sex with Ororo, it's just he wants for people to who they are when he had sex with them. Call it a bit backward thinking but he wants women to be comfortable when they sleep with him. Though he must admit he didn't had so much experience browsing. A lot of his life he was made to be someone who he was not. Only with Jean was he himself.

"He is not my father and it doesn't concern him what I do in my spare time." Scott stated looking at her deep in her eyes willing her to understand how serious he was regarding who he fucked.

But it seemed Raven was quite adamant about this whole changing thing, cause instead of answering she **changed**. First her mocha skin turned to a fairer shade of white then her hair color shifted to the familiar red and finally her face changed, allowing him to recognize the sensuous woman posturing above him.

"I heard you have a thing for redheads." Hearing the words coming from the accented voice was flummoxing. He had never in his wildest thoughts would have think that his enemy would be looking down at him. And not with scorn filled and hateful eyes but with unbridled lust and thirst. God her body was, in a word amazing, it was even more rounded than Ororo's, a body made to hugged, to be a substitute for hugging pillow but warm and more relaxing.

Wanda Maximoff, the Scarlet Witch

Scott groaned in mild exasperation with a hint of amusement in his eyes. He was starting to understand this crazy woman now.

"When I said change, I didn't mean change to a different woman; I meant change to your original body." Scott said with a frown. He was serious, he was the leader of X-men and he expects full deference in every part of his life. But his mind was currently swimming in the gutter. He was looking in Raven/Wanda's chocolaty eyes – even though the other party didn't know – but of their own accord his eyes would glance at her full peach lips, her lascivious figure, those curves, those hanging perky breasts begging for attention and the dark areolas wanting to be touched.

This time Raven frowned – first time – the lust and hunger taking a back seat as she mused over Scott's words. "But don't you want to fuck the daughter of Magneto, the thorn in your side, the hurdle for peaceful co-existence? Think of it as your revenge at him for all the atrocities he did. Or do you want to bed another woman? Tell me and I'll be your genie for tonight granting any wishes you have. You just have to say." There was something in her voice that gave him pause, but nonetheless he stood firm in his decision.

"No. Shift to the body you are meant to be Raven and let's get this night over with," Scott said as he lifted his legs – at least the much he could do – at his knees and gave Raven/Wanda a slight nudge on her backside. Though that didn't provided the result he wanted, but Raven went along with it and he was face to face with the woman who was the cause of the near extinction of the mutant race. Her heavenly globes crushing over his hard chest even as her legs trapped him at the side. Her wonderful aroma coercing him to took a whiff of the essence of the woman above him.

Instead of verbally replying to his words, Raven/Wanda changed. But not to any other woman she could if she wants, no, but to the body she was meant to be. Her body became lithe and slender, supplied with strong muscles from years of training and conditioning, her wavy red hair transformed to a more vibrant shade of red and flowing to the small of her black in thick locks, her brown eyes now the sickly looking yellow that he could not associate with others even if he wanted to. And above all she was naked.

Her cold reptilian skin a contrast to his warm one, her soft, smooth flesh contorting and mixing with his firm and stiff, bringing pleasure to both. After shifting, Raven didn't say anything but instead centered her attention to smooching and nuzzling him, peppering him with hot open mouthed kisses, reddening and bruising his skin.

Though he was enjoying it, Scott's mind was still at her refusal to be in her original body. Though she had agreed to his wish, he can still feel hesitancy in her bodily actions, as though she was self-conscious of her hide. That confused Scott a bit, as far as he knew she was one of the mutants who had whole-heartedly embraced their mutant heritage and were proud of it.

Scott's thought was halted quite soundly when he found a hand pressing over his erection. It seemed Raven had decided to take a direct approach and was quite eager to complete her requirements – whatever they must be.

She started caressing his cock over the fabric of his jeans before she deftly undid the button with just one hand. She slowly moved her entire body over his, her breasts contorting and shifting their shape over the contours of his body. Her icy, rigid peaks scratching his skin, creating a shiver that went down his spine at the cold touch. Her lips that were possessively marking his neck were now biting the curve of his collar bone, before drifting lower and lower. She gave a hard nip to one of his nipple that had him a stifling a groan from deep within his chest. She would alternately lick and bite the expanse of his skin over his abs as her body slithered lower to his hips.

After giving a deep smooch to the V of his abdomen, she finally separated her cold, wet lips from his sweaty skin, but not before giving a lick to him as an apology for all the hickey.

"Oops! Sorry for all the love bites Scotty! You just know, I can never resist marking such a fine specimen of mankind." Raven pouted tauntingly while she opened his zipper, giving a tug as she went.

She would not look up at him. Scott lifted his hips slightly to allow ease access for Raven to remove the now offensive article of clothing. Raven removed his undergarment in one go. They both were bunched at his ankles and his dick was finally free of their confinements, standing tall and proud as if begging for attention.

And that is what it got from Raven and wholeheartedly that too.

It was shock to Scott's system to feel Raven's icy touch on his hot member. Raven circled his prick, stroking it and it quickly began to harden even more.

"I think it's high time we start with the main course. Don't you think, Scottie?"

… …

Over. At least for now.

God I am so stressed! College has just started four days before and I am bombarded with all the studies and work! I at least want to finish this story and give my part to this unexplored pairing.

Writers write to express themselves but they also like it when their works are being appreciated or if they find room for improvement.

Powers:

Cyclops: Optic Beams. They are concussive force emitting from his eyes in a shower of red light ( _COOL_!).

Origin of power: His body absorbs radiant sunlight, processes it and then releases from the eyes. Though retconned later. His eyes are gateway to a non-Euclidean dimension where there is a limitless amount of the red force which he emits. The limit to his power? His body's durability.

I like the second explanation. It makes him look cooler and gives his power a deeper, unexplored background.

Why does he have only one ability (that too crippled!), while his starting teammates, rivals, up comers, etc. are getting a plethora of new powers and being raised to Omega level?

\- Sky Summers


End file.
